


Crash and Burn

by AnonEhouse



Series: Tiny Tony 'verse [14]
Category: Iron Man (Comic), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, Daddy Issues, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-27
Updated: 2012-03-27
Packaged: 2017-11-02 14:06:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is seventeen. Tony is... shattered. Tony just... can't process this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash and Burn

**Author's Note:**

> The canonical deaths are not graphic. There are no details at all beyond the fact that they die.

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Tony is examining his face in the mirror, admiring the fuzz that's attempting to become a goatee, when someone calls him to the house phone. He doesn't remember afterward who it was. He doesn't remember who puts their arms around him after he drops the phone, or who leads him to the couch in the common room when his legs refuse to hold him up. He doesn't remember the beginning of the conversation.

What he remembers is Obadiah's voice. It's just...the sound of Obadiah's voice, deep and soft and resolute. Like the voice of truth, even when he's saying what can't possibly be true.

"No." He distinctly remembers saying that. "It can't be. I... I've won an award. Dad was coming to see me get it."

"I'm so sorry, my boy. It was very quick. I'm sure they didn't suffer."

"But...Mom and Dad... they're gone? Are you sure? It wasn't someone else in the car? Maybe someone stole it."

"There's no mistake, Tony. I'm very sorry. I'm making the arrangements now."

"Arrangements?" Tony doesn't, can't process this. It just... doesn't make sense. It's not logical. 

"For the memorial services."

Tony nods, numbly, even though Obie can't see him. "Right. Yes. Thank you. I... I need to come home. Can you... I need..."

"Jarvis is taking the next flight to get you. I'd come, but I've got to handle business. This tragedy...Your father wouldn't want you to lose your inheritance. He built that business up for you."

Tony takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Yeah. He loved the business. You...take care of it, Obie. Listen... I... I have to go now. Pack. I'll see you when I get there."

Then he's sitting on the couch, and someone's wrapping his hands around a glass. Automatically he brings it up to his mouth, but it... it's bourbon, where in God's name did they get bourbon. It smells like... he can't. He drops the glass and gets up, swaying on his feet for a moment. "I have to go." He sees faces all around him, but they're distant, not real. What's real is going up to his room and throwing things into a bag, coming back down and going... he's not sure how, but he finds his way to an office where he explains that he can't stay for graduation and if they want to deny him the diploma, then fine, but he wants his robots shipped home. He's not going to abandon them. He created them. He owes them that much. Not to leave them alone in the world.

"There's no problem, Tony. You've earned your degree." More sympathetic hands and voices. "The robots will be sent wherever you want."

Time goes by in odd slips and starts. He's sitting on a bench in front of the main building, with his bag beside him. There's a squirrel on the lawn, moving in sine waves and arcs. He watches it while the shadows move. Sometimes people sit beside him. They say things and pat his shoulders, his arms. He gives them smiles and the appropriate responses until they leave. 

"Master Tony."

Tony looks up, and Jarvis is there. Tony tries to smile. "Hey, Jarvis."

Jarvis sits next to Tony and puts his arms around him. "We'll go home now, Tony."

"Yeah," Tony says into Jarvis's shoulder, noting that either Jarvis is very warm, or he is very cold. It's interesting. He hadn't noticed, but perhaps it's him. Jarvis has always been warm.

***

Tony has Jarvis call Dad's tailor to come to the mansion. He hasn't got anything suitable to wear for... not suitable. He stands patiently for the measuring and pays extra to have the tailor work exclusively on it. Obadiah says the funeral must be held very soon, that they need the closure for the business. Dad loved the business. Tony tells himself that he's lucky Obadiah is here, willing and able to keep Dad's business from failing. That way Dad will leave something to be remembered by, something to be proud of.

***

Tony doesn't drink, not even after the services, when people wander about the mansion as if it's a quiet party, drinks in hand, softly saying what a wonderful man Howard had been, how he and Maria had been such a wonderful couple, how absolutely amazingly perfect they'd been in every way. Some of the guests even remember they had a son. A few of them even know he went to M.I.T. Tony suspects some of the guests are reporters. He doesn't bother to correct them when they say he's graduating Summa Cum Laude, or at the top of his class. M.I.T. doesn't have Latin honors, or class ranking. They just teach you. They just don't teach you everything you need to know.

Tony doesn't understand. He's not used to not understanding.

***

After it's all over and the caterers have cleaned up and gone, and it's just Tony, Obadiah, and Jarvis, the mansion is so quiet, so very quiet. Tony thinks it would be nice to put on music, something loud and full of rage, something that Dad would have hated. But Dad won't come and shout at him for it, so it's not the same thing.

"Well, Tony, what would you like to do now?" Obadiah puts his hands on Tony's shoulders. His hands are big and hot and heavy. They feel like stones, weighing him down. "According to Howard's will you can't become active in company management until you're twenty-one, but I could set up something for you--an office, maybe a place in Research and Development?"

Tony feels sick at the very thought. He shakes his head. "No. No, I don't want that."

Jarvis watches them from a respectful distance. He doesn't say anything. It was never his place to say anything in front of anyone else. 

Tony looks at Jarvis and then at Obie. "I want to go away. Just... get away. Get a passport... see the world. I don't know."

"I can arrange that." Obadiah's hand tightens on Tony's shoulder. It almost hurts enough to get through the numbness.

"But Jarvis stays here, as long as he wants. He's to have complete control over the mansion and total discretion to draw whatever funds he wishes. I want my robots and Dad's cars. His collection. Keep all of that, Jarvis. Are you willing to do that?"

Jarvis nods. "Of course, Master Tony."

Tony manages to slide out from under Obadiah's hand. "Fine, we're good then, that's settled. Good night." Tony doesn't wait for replies. He goes into his father's study, and pours bourbon from the decanter into a large glass. He tips it down his throat, then takes the decanter to the table in front of his father's chair. He sits and pours another glass. It doesn't taste as bad as he remembers. Not bad at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I had expected to end this series here, but I now hope I can go a bit further - possibly one a year until his return when he's 21. As ever, your comments and kudos encourage me. :^) Thank you all so much for being such a lovely readership.


End file.
